


when your heart is bleeding, i'm coming to get you

by cosetties



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Newspapers, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 10:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11080143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosetties/pseuds/cosetties
Summary: Isak doesn't exactly expect his hookup from last week to be the love advice columnist at the school newspaper he's working at. He also doesn't expect to fall even harder for him than he already has, which is a shame, really, since Even's crushing on someone else.





	when your heart is bleeding, i'm coming to get you

**Author's Note:**

> this fic would not have been possible without [rhae](http://stardefiant.tumblr.com/) prompting me to write isak and even hooking up and then becoming coworkers. this fic is probably not what you were expecting at all (it wasn't what i expected), but i hope you like it!! also, thank you to [ceecee](http://westiris.tumblr.com/) for reading over it, and for enabling this idea taking off when i really should've been taking a nap. will i ever write anything without screaming at you about it first anymore!! probably not!!!
> 
> (title from making the most of the night by carly rae jepsen.)

_Dear Juliet’s Nurse,_

_Do you believe in cosmic signs?_

_There’s a boy I keep running into at the gym. For some reason, we’re always going at the same time, and to be honest, I’ve started coordinating my workouts to match with his. I’ve never spoken to him, past asking him for a towel, but I’ve been trying to work up to it for the past two months. But the other day, we wore the same Nike Airs, and in the exact same color! He told me he liked my shoes, and I can’t help thinking that this is a sign._

_Is this dumb? Am I making this up in my head?_

_Best,_

_Gym Rat_

* * *

_Dear Gym Rat,_

_I think anything can be a sign if you want it to be. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. Not if it’s the last push you need to talk to this boy._

_I’d like to believe in cosmic signs too, Gym Rat. Just the other day, this guy I’ve been lowkey crushing on had a yellow dandelion tucked behind his ear, and I think everything fell into place for me in that moment. I had seen him before, but he was very loudly defending Adam Sandler, and I just couldn’t. I’m sure you understand. That day felt different, though, like I could see that he was more than his bad taste in movies. Everything just felt right._

_I haven’t talked to him yet, but I will. Soon. And you should too._

_Peace,_

_Juliet’s Nurse_

* * *

_Dear Juliet’s Nurse,_

_I’m crushing on someone so hard that I barely know what to do with myself anymore. It’s making me physically sick. I literally thought I was getting a stomach bug the other day, but it was just feelings. Everything this girl does is adorable, from pen biting to the way she ties her shoes. I might be a little bit obsessed._

_The problem is that I don’t think she realizes I exist. We’ve spoken a few times in our Psych class, but it’s mostly just me pining from afar. I don’t know how long I can keep this up. I’m just a little afraid that if I talk to her, it’ll ruin the illusion. No one can be that perfect in real life._

_Best,_

_Lovesick_

* * *

_Dear Lovesick,_

_Welcome to my world. The other day, Dandelion Boy was wearing a shirt with The Scream on it, looking like he had just rolled out of bed, and I never knew I had a thing for Expressionism until then. Sometimes, I think that I’ve spent enough time staring at him that he must have looked back once or twice. Or he may be the most oblivious boy in the world. That may be for the best._

_I don’t think anyone is exactly the way you built them up to be. We all have our expectations and desires, and it’s too easy to fit everyone into the little boxes we’ve created in our heads. I was in a four-year relationship with someone who I’ve never felt in sync with, and it wasn’t until we broke up that I realized I never loved her at all—just this idea of being in love. But Lovesick, this girl may not be what she’s cracked out to be, but she could be better. She could be nothing like you’ve imagined, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing._

_You’ll never know until you take that chance, right?_

_Peace,_

_Juliet’s Nurse_

* * *

_Dear Juliet’s Nurse,_

_Tell me more about Dandelion Boy! Who is he? What’s his major? Give me the deets!!_

_Love,_

_Ceecee_

* * *

_Dear Ceecee,_

_I usually wouldn’t answer something like this. I’m supposed to be the one giving out love advice, right? But we’ve gotten so many letters about this guy that my editor thought it would be best for me to address it. Seriously, I don’t know why you guys think my life is so interesting. I’m a little flattered, I guess._

_The thing is, I don’t know any of those details. He’s just a boy I keep seeing in the quad with his friends or running to his next class. Literally know nothing about him past that, but he kind of brightens my day every time I see him. I don’t really know how to explain it, it’s just something I’ve come to expect. I’m sorry this isn’t as exciting as you hoped it would be. Maybe one day I’ll actually get the guts to talk to him, and then you’ll get the deets (!!) But until then, he’s as much a mystery to me as he is to all of you._

_Peace,_

_Juliet’s Nurse_

* * *

If it’s one thing Isak’s learned from tonight, it’s that alcohol can’t cure all his troubles. No matter how much vodka he downs, it doesn’t make the guy in the Gryffindor robes across the living room any less attractive, with his dumb swooshy hair and his dumb legs and his dumb everything. There’s no way to drown out pure hotness, probably, but Isak can sure as hell try.

In the contest of making dorky costumes socially acceptable, the hot Harry Potter guy is beating everyone here, and Isak isn’t even in the running. Jonas and Noora’s first co-hosted party together of course _had_ to be themed Famous Feminist Figures. Isak can’t escape his own apartment, not if there’s free booze. It had only seemed like a halfway horrible idea at the beginning, but now, Isak’s dying of humiliation in his Iron Man costume. The boys had claimed he’d look buff, which he desperately needed, and he simply didn’t have the strength to protest.

To say that this isn’t the best Halloween he’s had is an understatement. The only thing he wants to do after his three exams this week is pass out in bed. On top of that, Justin, his hook-up for the past month, is right fucking there, lounging casually on Isak’s couch like they’re not ignoring each other like mad. Just this Monday, Isak had caught him holding hands with his ex, the one he swore he’d never take back. It’s fine. Isak wasn’t that invested, but it hurts a little, to know that he’s never anyone’s first choice.

Anyone who’d told him that being out and proud would make him happy was a huge fucking liar. But maybe that’s just Isak’s problem, for expecting love where it can’t be found, for expecting that _he_ could be loved when he still has too much baggage to unload. He doesn’t even know why he keeps doing it, this string of hookups he’s well aware only saps the energy out of him. But it’s a habit at this point, an easy way to get the boys off his back at parties, to feel _something,_ even if it doesn’t last.

Fuck, maybe this party was a good idea. If anything, he’ll just drink a couple more beers and try to sleep once the noise dies down. Alcohol always makes it easier to drift off, and Isak can get behind the prospect of finally sleeping before three in the morning. It’s been difficult in the past month, between the workload in his classes and checking up on his mom and her new treatment, and he’s already nodding off. Maybe if he can keep his eyes shut for more than three seconds, he can fall asleep right here in the kitchen. It wouldn’t be the worst thing, not if he can finally feel awake in the morning, not if he can finally feel like himself.

It’s just his dumb fucking luck when the guy slides next to him as soon as Isak starts picking his fucking wedgie, and the pure heat in his face is enough to fuel every geothermal plant on the face of the Earth for at least a few years.   

“Hi,” the guy says. Up close, the round glasses he’s wearing make him look even more adorable. Isak takes another gulp of his beer. “Mind if I stand here with you for a bit? It’s pretty wild out there.”

Someone had put on All Star, and Magnus, dressed as Shrek, is flailing wildly at the center of the room, so that’s a fair assessment of the situation. Vilde’s dressed as Taylor Swift instead of Fiona, and she’s been ignoring Magnus all night. But if there’s something brewing there, it’s not his issue. Magnus may be his friend, but there’s only so much heterosexuality a man can take.

Isak shrugs. “Sure, man. I don’t have control over this entire counter.”

The guy smirks. He grabs a beer bottle from the cabinet, and Isak is definitely not watching his lips close around the rim, the long line of his throat as he throws his head back. Nope. Isak’s sweating under his suit—God, why is it so fucking _thick?_ It’s practically a furnace in here.

“Yeah, but you’ve been standing here all night. Thought it’d be polite to ask, in case you wanted to sulk in peace,” the guy says.

“I wasn’t _sulking,”_ Isak says, sulking.

“Pretty sure what you’re doing is the exact definition of sulking. Look it up.” The guy extends a hand. “I’m Even, by the way. When I sulk, I also like sulking alone, so I get it.”

There’s a moment before Isak takes it, but when he finally grasps it, the warmth of Even’s hand reaches all the way to Isak’s toes. That’s probably the alcohol speaking, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling tingly all over. “I’m Isak.”

Even offers him a grin in return, and the sheer brightness of his smile sears itself in Isak’s memory. Fuck, alcohol is only making him more sentimental. Even leans back on the counter. “So, you’re dressed as Iron Man at a feminism party. What’s up with that?”

Isak blushes. “He’s my favorite superhero, okay? Don’t drag my costume choices.”

Even smirks. “Of course he’s your favorite.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Even leans closer, and Isak grows at least five degrees warmer. “I bet you’re also obsessed with Fight Club and bad memes.”

“I’ll have you know my taste in memes is _impeccable.”_

“You still make Harambe jokes, don’t you?”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Isak says, but in spite of himself, he’s chuckling. Even couldn’t just be hot. He has to be funny too, because that’s just Isak’s dumb fucking luck.

Even taps the Iron Man mask tucked under Isak’s arm. He’s been complaining all night about it, because what’s the point of a Halloween costume if it’s going to impede his ability to get drunk as fuck and actually enjoy Halloween? Jonas had pointed out that, by that logic, Isak really should’ve gone with that sexy firefighter costume because getting laid would definitely make him enjoy this party, and this was when Isak had flipped him off. “So, back to Iron Man? Feminist figure?” Even says.

It’s a reach, Isak’s well aware, but the smugness in Even’s face makes him defensive. “He’s really good at admitting when women are more badass than he is?”

“But he’s also shitty to everyone else. Sorry, I just can’t get over Iron Man’s blatant objectification of women. The fact that he respects some women doesn’t make it better. And shit, all comic books have this weird complex about defining what female power is, and always gearing it towards men.”

Isak’s cheeks are burning. “Did you come over here just to fight with me about my costume?”

“Yeah, it’s really shitty,” Even says. Isak can feel himself growing hotter by the minute, until Even bursts out laughing. It’s a gorgeous sound. Isak is so fucked, even has he’s struggling to figure out what the hell is going on. “Shit, sorry, I was kidding. I don’t actually give a crap. I came over to talk to you because you’re really cute, and telling you that I’ve seen the first Iron Man movie three times seemed like it was too easy.”

“Fuck you, I thought I was getting called out. I get enough of that from Jonas.” Isak pauses as Even’s words finally catch up to him. “Wait, you think I’m cute?”

Even beams, corners of his eyes crinkling. “The cutest person in this entire room.”

Isak is suddenly fully aware of how drunk he is. He doesn’t take compliments well normally, but now, with Even’s full attention on him, his face must be bright red. The thing is, he’s used to guys hitting on him. He’s used to them complimenting his hair, or his face, or sliding their eyes over his ass. The sheer openness of it used to make him want to crawl out of his skin, but he’s grown to enjoy it over the past year. He’s even slowly learning to give back in kind.

None of it’s ever felt like this, though. Isak feels like he’s seventeen all over again, an awkward, fumbling mess who could barely admit that he only got drunk at parties to be able to stomach hooking up with girls. Now he gets drunk to flirt with boys like Even, apparently, but that’s not much of a hardship.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Isak mumbles, because what the hell is he supposed to say? He can’t outright tell Even that he’s the most beautiful thing Isak’s laid eyes on. That’s some marriage proposal shit. Fuck, he hates being drunk, he’s so gross. He fixes this by drinking more beer, which totally makes sense.

Even grins wider. “So how do you know Jonas and Noora?”

Isak breathes out a sigh of relief. Familiar territory. “Jonas is my best friend. I live here. Which explains why I’m out here and not happily asleep.”

“Those outdated Spider-Man memes on the fridge _are_ yours then?”

Isak buries his face in his hands. “Fuck, I knew those would bite me in the ass.”

“Nice ass, though.”

Isak nearly drops his beer. Who _is_ this fucking guy?

“How do you know them?” Isak asks when he finally drops his hands. He hopes that his blush has calmed down, but Even’s smirk says otherwise.

“I work with Jonas at the paper,” Even says. “Do you read it?”

Judging by the way Jonas talks about it, the paper was poised to singlehandedly expose every lie that the university’s administration had ever told them, from the mysterious tenure process to the price of pens at the bookstore. If that’s true, it’s hard to tell from its most popular feature, which is a love advice column, for God’s sake. Isak may have read it once or twice (or religiously follows it every day), but that’s because Jonas is his best friend, and the paper’s important to him.

Juliet’s Nurse had also given him great blowjob advice once, but that’s neither here nor there.

Something about the column hits him in the weirdest places, and he’s drunk enough now to admit that those places may be close to his heart. Every other student on campus must feel the exact same way, though. He’s not special. Isak is just another hopeless romantic with commitment issues. He just wants someone to cuddle with him, okay, but fuck him if anyone ever hears him admit this sober.

“What do you cover?” Isak asks. “Lemme guess, something pretentious. Like art or film? I bet you’re one of those guys trying to give everyone a taste of ‘authentic’ Oslo culture.”

A soft smile is playing at Even’s lips. “You could say I cover contemporary issues. Real problems students are facing.”

“Like accidentally getting two sugars in their coffee instead of three?”

“I’ll have you know that coffee is an integral part of student culture.”

Isak rolls his eyes. “I bet you have a list of every hipster coffee shop in Oslo.”

“Why—do you want to come along next time I go on one of my hipster coffee crawls?”

Isak’s trying to decide whether he should respond that _yes,_ he’d follow Even anywhere, when the song changes to High For This. The song is so loud that the bass vibrates through Isak’s body. Even’s smile grows wicked, and he holds out his hand to Isak. “Dance with me,” he says.

“What a rom-com move,” Isak says. He’s a little disgusted, but mostly with himself for the butterflies that flare up in his stomach.

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment.” Even bats his eyelashes at him. “Please?”

“I don’t dance.”

“It’s not that hard.”

“I’m literally wearing an Iron Man costume.”

“And I’m wearing Hogwarts robes—I don’t think either of us are gonna be at our peak tonight.”

Even looks so goddamn _earnest_ that saying no would feel like a betrayal of the goodness of humanity. It’s what he tells himself, but the simple fact of the matter is that Isak’s already a little bit lost in Even. He sighs and makes a big show of setting his beer can down on the counter, but it’s so easy, too easy to slip his hands into Even’s, to curl his own fingers around his. It feels so goddamn right that Isak has to blink, to shake that feeling away. They’re drunk, and Isak’s horny, and those things don’t exactly tend to make relationships that last longer than one night.

Isak coughs to hide his blush when Even brushes his thumb against the back of Isak’s hand. “Good, because you don’t wanna see me bust out my full dance moves. They may send you into shock. Because they’re so good and all,” Isak says.

“I’m sure they’re fantastic,” Even whispers in Isak’s ear.

Isak nods. Even’s breath makes his insides all shivery, and a part of him wishes he were sober for this. “They really, really are.”

Even places his big hands at Isak’s hips and brings them close together, starting a slow grind that Isak feels low in his belly. Isak’s hands drift, scrabble at Even’s back until they finally meet above Even’s ass. Isak can count every one of Even’s breaths, can feel the rise and fall of his chest with how close they’re pressed together. He licks his lips, and his eyes can’t tear away from Even’s mouth. Even must have the same idea because he just pulls him closer, until Even seems to be everywhere, surrounding him. Isak’s jeans aren’t feeling the most comfortable right now, but he grinds back, gives it all he’s got. They’re so close together that Isak could melt into Even, and he wouldn’t mind.

“I give your dance moves a six out of ten,” Even says breathlessly. His eyes are blown wide, and Isak can’t help his rush of pride. That was all on him.

“Only six? Okay, I’m leaving.” But Isak doesn’t make a move.

“This feels like a bad crossover fanfiction,” Even says. He tilts his head, considering. “Or a really good one.”

Even’s Harry Potter glasses are slipping down the bridge of his nose, and he looks so good that something bursts wide open in Isak’s chest, something he doesn’t want to label quite yet. “Definitely a really good one,” Isak says softly.

By the time Isak tilts his head up to ask for a kiss, he already knows where this night’s headed. After Even cups Isak’s chin in his hands to bring their lips together, after he licks into Isak’s mouth in a way that has his toes curling in his socks and his heartbeat thundering in his chest, it’s even clearer.

“My place isn’t that far away,” Even says.

Isak squeezes his hand. He’s still a little dazed, but there’s no way he’s passing up this chance. “Okay.”

* * *

When Isak wakes up in the morning, Even is a comfortable weight against his back, his breath blowing at the hair at the nape of Isak’s neck. It’s near impossible to remove himself from the circle of Even’s arms, but Isak forces himself to anyway. He can’t resist letting his fingers linger on Even’s skin, before sucking in a breath to collect himself. Better to get this over with now.

Isak wouldn’t be able to handle the morning after talk from Even. Maybe he’d be nice about it. Even seems like the type. But it doesn’t change things, it doesn’t change the fact that this was a hookup, and Even has an entire life outside of Isak, and they don’t actually know each other, not at all. It doesn’t matter what Isak had been feeling last night. He knows the drill by now. Justin had been the only guy he’d slept with more than once in the past couple of months, and even then, Isak had hardly ever stayed over. It’s easy to want Isak under the illusion of night, but everything’s more real in the morning.

Isak can’t help but sneak a glance behind him before he goes, Even looks so peaceful like this, all tucked into his comforter like a burrito. His hair is mussed from the sleep and the sex, and Isak longs to curl his fingers into it, find out whether it really is as soft as it had seemed last night.

He thinks, if Even asked him to stay, he would. The full awareness of it doesn’t hit him as hard as it should, and maybe that’s what scares him the most.

In the end, though, Even doesn’t stir. _This is a good thing,_ Isak tells himself.

By the time he leaves Even behind, he almost believes it.

* * *

_Dear Juliet’s Nurse,_

_Only my closest friends know this, but I have depression. I’ve only been in one serious relationship before, and he was there with me for my diagnosis. He’s been through all of it with me, and when we broke up, I was genuinely scared that I would never find someone who would understand me as well as he did._

_The problem is, I like someone new. But this new guy only knows the public version of me. He doesn’t know about the days when I can’t get out of bed. He doesn’t know how often I just want to fade away. I want to take the next step with him, but I’m afraid that once he finds out all the ugly parts of me, he won’t want me anymore. He has no idea how hard it can be, and I don’t want him to eventually hate me. Should I just leave it be? But then how do I know when I can trust someone?_

_Best,_

_Depressed and Loveless_

* * *

_Dear Depressed,_

_I think I may have alluded to it a couple of times, but I’m bipolar. I used to be ashamed of it, especially in high school, but I’m learning how to live with it now. I think that’s what kept me from leaving behind my last long-term relationship, even when it grew toxic. I think that’s the reason why I haven’t been in a relationship since. My point is, I’ve been in your shoes. And it’s hard. It’s so fucking hard, but I’m so happy that you found someone!_

_The bad news is, you can’t ever know whether this guy will take you for all you are. You won’t know until you tell him. Hell, you may not even know until he’s with you when your symptoms are at their worst. But you seem like the kind of person who takes relationships very seriously. And if he can’t stick around for the good and the bad, then there was no point to being serious about him, right? That may hurt, but there are so many people out there, and you are worthy of love. I truly believe that._

_Then again, if you decide to take this next step, it may be the start of something great, something that’ll go down in history._

_Peace,_

_Juliet’s Nurse_

* * *

Isak can’t believe that Jonas is waking him up before noon on a day when he doesn’t have class until two _._ When Jonas continues to shake his shoulder over Isak’s insistent groans, he just rolls over onto his stomach and stuffs his face into the pillow.

“I don’t wanna, Mom _,”_ Isak whines.

“That’s not even a good insult.”

“Your face isn’t a good insult.”

“I think that was a roundabout compliment actually, so that backfired,” Jonas says. “You’re going to have to get up eventually. You already promised you’d cover for Sana.”

“That was before I realized you’d be waking me up at,” Isak manages to lift his head for a second to check his phone, “Nine in the morning.”

“For some people, that’s a decent time.”

“Some people are idiots.”

Jonas jumps on him, squashes Isak under his weight, and yep, Isak’s definitely awake now. “Get off me, asshole. I can’t breathe,” Isak pants.

“You can breathe enough to keep complaining, apparently.”

“Please,” Isak huffs, “I’ll always be able to complain, even after I die.”

Jonas rolls over, relieving the pressure on Isak’s lungs. He blinks at Isak with all the innocence he can muster. “I can’t find anyone else to take over Science & Tech on such short notice. Please, Isak, you’re my only ho.”

Isak glares. Jonas stares back. It only takes Jonas another minute to win this battle of the wills, and Isak sighs in defeat. He _had_ promised Jonas that he would take over Sana’s Science & Technology column in the paper, at least until they found someone permanent. Sana’s taking over Politics, because the last guy, Lars, had suddenly decided that he needed to find himself by backpacking across Southeast Asia, the fucker. Jonas had made it very clear that he only trusts Isak’s level of science expertise, and he’s not that bad with his words either, when those words don’t require emotional competency.

“Hope Lars has a good time getting his taste of ‘culture’,” Jonas had said bitterly. “Tourism can be so fucking imperialist. It’s so shitty how we can still treat other people’s cultures like a commodity.”

Isak had refrained from pointing out that Noora had started making Jonas attend her yoga classes, so he probably didn’t have that much room to talk. Hey, Isak taken a class on Third World Feminism for a requirement last year—he knows his shit.

Isak finally sits up, but not before giving Jonas a grand roll of his eyes. “You’re lucky you’re my best friend.”

Jonas beams. “I know.”

The newspaper office is already bustling by the time they get there, and Isak wonders how any group of people is awake this early in the morning. He even spots one or two people without a cup of coffee in their hand. Jonas is walking down the hallway of desks so quickly that Isak can hardly keep up, but he still manages to point out some of the other staff along the way.

“That’s Elias, he covers sports.”

“Mutasim and Adam, they’re the comics editors.”

“Mikael’s one of our best photographers.”

“Yousef, life and arts.”

Finally, he stops at the last computer. “And this is you,” Jonas says. Some of Sana’s old stuff is still here, including a couple of doodles Isak doubts she’s drawn herself, and some pictures with the girls.

Speak of the devil.

“So I heard Jonas is making you be the new me. Try not to fuck up too bad,” Sana deadpans. But she’s betrayed by her grin and the bagel she’s holding out to him.

Isak smiles. “Thanks, Sanasol.”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t thank me. This is totally out of self-preservation. I know how bratty you get when you don’t have breakfast.”

“Say what you want, but I know you told Jonas to ask me.”

“That is a total and complete lie, and Jonas, you should be ashamed of yourself for telling him that,” Sana says. Jonas just shrugs, smile playing at his lips.

“But really, thanks,” Isak tells her.

Sana shakes her head, but they know each other well enough by now to have their banter down pat. Back when she’d just been his reluctant lab partner in their first-year Bio class, Isak never expected that she would’ve become one of his best friends. Jonas has a theory that it’s because they’re both stubborn assholes who have a total of maybe five friends, and he’s not wrong. “We should grab lunch together sometime, Valtersen,” she calls out as she walks back to her own desk.

“And hear you talk about genome mapping the whole time? What do you think I am, a _nerd?”_

“Duh. Next Friday?”

“I guess I can make time,” Isak says.

Isak turns back to Jonas, who’s chuckling. “I’m assuming you’re gonna be just fine here,” he says.

“I told you I don’t even need a desk.”

“It’s, like, a rite of passage, man. You’re staff now.”

“Hey, Jonas, do you know where the letter box got to? I can’t find it anywhere,” a voice calls down the hallway. Isak’s heart stops beating when he looks up, which is the dumbest thing, because he should’ve expected this, what the fuck. There’s Even, wearing a denim jacket that makes him look absolutely edible. His hair is unstyled, and he may look even more attractive like this, and Isak has the weird urge to lick him all over. He hadn’t realized that he missed the sight of Even over the past two weeks, but it’s hitting him hard now, nearly bowls him over with the pressure that builds up in his chest.

Isak kind of hates himself a lot.

He can’t be blamed. He’s been trying to block out that memory anyway, and it’s only occurring to him now that Even had told him that he worked here. If only he fucking _remembered,_ he would’ve come up with a ten-step process for pretending that he was completely indifferent to this, for showing Even that he can be super cool and super down with one-night stands with beautiful boys. But he didn’t remember, and so he’s just left gaping at Even in his best impression of a pathetic goldfish.

Even’s eyes grow wide when he realizes it’s Isak, and both of them end up just staring at each other until Jonas, who’s completely oblivious to the sudden tension, breaks the silence.

“Oh dude, yeah, it was overflowing, so I put it on your desk.” Jonas motions to Isak. “Have you met Isak? He’s the guy taking over for Sana. Isak, Even. Even, this is my best friend, Isak.” He tilts his head. “I feel like you two are going to get along.”

Isak’s face reddens. _Getting along_ is right. “Hi, Even,” he manages to squeak. “Nice to meet you.”

“Hi,” Even replies. Fuck, his voice is deeper than Isak remembers. Traitorously, heat begins to stir in Isak’s belly. He still remembers that voice in his ear, urging him on as they fell against his mattress. If that’s going to be his primary association with it, the next few weeks are going to be awkward as hell. “I actually think we met at Jonas’s party a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yeah, uh, you were dressed as Harry Potter, right?”

Even chuckles. “That was me. And you were Iron Man.”

Isak left in such a rush that morning that he’s pretty sure the mask is still somewhere in Even’s bedroom. He wonders if Even kept it. God, he needs to stop this. It probably hadn’t meant that much to Even. It shouldn’t even mean that much to Isak.

“Even writes the—“ Jonas cuts himself off. “Shit, can I tell him?”

“Tell me what?” Isak says, but Even gives a reluctant jerk of his head. He grimaces, but Isak can’t fathom why.

“So you know how you’ve been trying to hide your obsession with Juliet’s Nurse from me?” Jonas says.

“It’s not an obsession—I just fucking _read_ it, like everyone else on this fucking campus.”

“Dude, you teared up when you read that column about first love.”

“I was feeling sentimental.” About _Jonas,_ actually, but he’s never admitting that, even though Jonas has probably figured it out by now. Besides, that was four years ago, and Isak is a whole new person. Four years ago, he was still the closeted gay kid cliché, so in love with his straight best friend he made himself sick with it. He’s upgraded to hooking up with his future coworkers apparently, but the improvement is debatable.

Jonas’s voice drops. “What if I told you that you could tell Juliet’s Nurse that right now. Like, right this second now?”

“What are you talking about?” Isak says, exasperated, but then his eyes land on Even, who’s staring at his feet. “ _Oh.”_

“But you can’t tell anyone. It’s kind of a staff secret. Not everyone, you know, just people I can trust. But you have no idea how long I’ve waited to tell you about this.” Jonas claps Even on the back. “This dude basically doubled our online readership.”

“Oh. Cool,” Isak says in an attempt at disinterest, but Jonas can see right through him.

“Weren’t you considering writing Juliet’s Nurse something at one point? When that guy Jakob wouldn’t leave you alone—”

Isak manages to stop himself before he slaps a hand over Jonas’s mouth, but it’s a near thing. But the sheer force of his glare must have _some_ power, because Jonas’s words dry up.

Even chuckles. “That’s me,” he says. He shoots Isak a weak smile. “It’s kind of weird when people find out. Apparently, it’s not what people would’ve expected from me.”

“Don’t listen to them, man. If there’s anyone I wanna get love advice from, it’s you,” Jonas says.

Isak goes cold as he remembers all the sex tips Even had given to his readers. Even had told him about that thing he should do with his tongue, which he’d ironically used on Even himself, and great, now he’s thinking about Even naked in bed again, which he needs to scrub out of his head immediately.

Isak coughs. “Even, that’s really cool. You’re a really good writer.”

Isak thinks he can catch the hint of a blush on Even’s cheeks as he averts his gaze. Isak’s heart flutters again. “Are they still asking questions about Dandelion Boy?” Even asks Jonas.

Jonas rolls his eyes. “Fucking yeah. I don’t know why they’re so interested in your gigantic crush on a boy you’ve never even talked to, but it’s definitely making us more popular. The moment you actually get off your ass and say something to him, I’m pretty sure everyone’s going to combust.”

Isak’s stomach drops. How could he have forgotten about this? He hadn’t realized he’d gotten his hopes up before now, before they came crashing down. Even _likes_ someone, quite famously so, and Isak’s kept up with the whole saga over the past few weeks. Everyone’s talking about it, and he has to admit he’d been curious too. There’s just something so relatable about it—the idea that Juliet’s Nurse, love guru, is susceptible to unrequited crushes too. It had even initiated a couple of memes on the school Facebook page.

Isak’s not so curious anymore. He bets this Dandelion Boy, whatever the fuck is real name is, isn’t even that hot anyway. Even’s only seen him from far away—he’s got to be smelly and gross up close. No one’s honestly that perfect, not in the way Even’s been describing this boy.

“Well, they’re gonna be waiting a while,” Even says. “I have no intention of approaching him yet.”

“This is so pathetic to watch, man. Why not?” Jonas says.

Even shrugs, and his eyes are unreadable. He doesn’t look at Isak. “I have my reasons.”

They’d talked a little, that night, before drifting off to bed. Isak had told Even about the universe, about the weathered encyclopedia of space he’d kept in his nightstand since his mom had given it to him as a kid. Even had told him about his passion for movies, how he’d grown up on epic love stories and believes a part of him has always been searching for that.

That’s not Isak. That’s Even’s crush, which everyone’s rooting for, and when Even finally does talk to this guy, they’re going to have their happily ever after. Because who wouldn’t, with Even?

Isak has no right to be disappointed, but he can’t find another name for what he’s feeling.

It suddenly occurs to Isak to check his phone. “Sorry guys, I have class.”

Jonas narrows his eyes. “No, you don’t.”

This is the downside to having his best friend as his roommate. “Emergency class! Just got the email,” Isak says.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not even a thing,” Jonas says, but Isak is already walking away.

If only forgetting about Even were that easy.

* * *

_Dear Juliet’s Nurse,_

_I’m twenty-two years old, and I genuinely don’t know what love feels like. I’ve been in relationships, but nothing serious. I used to think I was aromantic, even, but I don’t think that’s right. I’ve been romantically attracted to my partners. I just don’t know if I loved them._

_I’ve been dating someone over the past six months, and I know I feel something for them. But something is stopping me from saying those three words. I don’t want to say it, and then take it back, or realize I made a mistake. I like them so much, but I don’t know what the line is. I’ve even started making lists about how they make me feel, and watching romantic movies, but none of it is helping me figure it out. How can I be sure?_

_Best,_

_In love (?)_

* * *

_Dear In love (?),_

_I don’t know if I have an easy answer for you. I’ve been in love before, but it’s so long ago that I don’t know how to describe it. There’s no real set formula for this. The love you have for different people is going to inevitably feel different. That makes it hard to tell when you really are in love. I think it’s also exciting._

_What I do know is that making lists or watching other people in love isn’t going to help you one bit. I don’t know if putting a label to it is even that important. I think we’ve built all these constructions around the idea of love—all of these relationship milestones that we’re supposed to hit before we tell someone we love them. I think that’s bullshit. You can fall in love with people you’ve just met, people you never expected to fall in love with. Try not to think about what other people expect love to be. At the end of the day, it’s up for you to decide whether you would choose to be with them no matter what, whether the way they make you feel is enough to make up for the bad parts that will come. It’s yours to define._

_And maybe that’s what love is._

_Peace,_

_Juliet’s Nurse_

* * *

Isak can’t avoid Even no matter how hard he tries. He manages to pop up somewhere every time Isak’s in the office, even when he varies his routine. Even worse, Isak starts noticing him everywhere else too, outside of classes, or at KB, or laughing with _his_ friends over a pizza. It seems impossible that Isak hadn’t realized Even existed until that party. He would’ve remembered Even’s face, branded it into his memory. Fuck, it had only taken one night for Isak to permanently miss the feeling of Even’s hands on his skin.

It’s worse now that he sees Even everywhere he goes. Even smiling, Even laughing, Even, Even, Even. Never with him though, because Isak’s not that lucky. Or unlucky, maybe, because the mere idea of Even talking to him, standing close, is enough to make his palms sweat.  

Isak doesn’t regret leaving that morning, especially now that he knows Even’s interested in someone else, but the memory of that night sticks in his mind like a parasite. After a week, Isak’s maybe gotten a total of twenty hours of sleep. His hands are shaking as he pours his coffee from the Keurig in the tiny office kitchen, but he’s somehow managing to keep it from spilling.

Of course, as soon as Even steps inside the room, Isak pours the hot coffee all over his hand.

“Fuck,” he shouts. Heat sears through his skin. Tears prickle at his eyes, but Even’s already grabbing his wrist and leading him to the sink. With a level of calmness Isak is nowhere close to right now, Even turns the water on and pushes Isak’s hand under the stream.

Isak breathes out a sigh of relief. The skin is still tingling, and he knows that it’ll hurt even more later, but he can finally breathe. “Thanks,” he says.

Even offers him a relieved smile. “Wouldn’t want your hands to be permanently injured. Don’t you have an article due soon?”

“I’m sure the success of this paper is literally in my hands,” Isak deadpans.

“Don’t underestimate them. Your hands are capable of a lot,” Even says, before his words catch up to him. Isak’s already a blushing mess, and Even’s not too far behind him. There’s a lot they can do with both of their hands, together, and it all comes back to him in a rush. Even’s fingers around his dick, his own hand curled in Even’s hair. It’s too much, and Isak starts messing with the temperature setting on the faucet just for something to do.

Even clears his throat. “How are you liking it here so far?”

“It’s good,” Isak mumbles. He’s always been shitty with small talk, never really seen the point of words that are just meant to fill time when everyone involved would be much more content leaving the silence be. It’s even more unbearable with Even, because he knows they’re capable of talking about the universe and the stars and their deepest fears. This all feels like pretense.

(Or maybe that night was, but Isak’s not letting his mind go there.)

“I liked your article about that robotics competition,” Even says. “Should’ve known you were a nerd as soon as I saw you in that Iron Man costume.”

Isak freezes, lungs suddenly feeling tight. Even must notice, because he lets out a sigh. “So you really have been avoiding me.”

“I haven’t been _avoiding_ you,” Isak protests. Even raises his eyebrows. “Okay, okay, maybe a little bit. But isn’t it awkward for you? Knowing that we, you know.”

Banged. Slept together. Fucked. The truth is unavoidable.

“No, I hook up with other staff members all the time,” Even says. Isak can feel the beginning of a blush coming on, because of _course_ he does. Even’s ridiculously attractive, like James Dean godlike levels of attractive, and Isak’s heard the legendary staff party stories from Jonas. There’s been ample opportunity for Even to hook up with people around here, and who can resist? Isak shuts off the water with his good hand, mumbles something about doing edits to his latest article, but Even wraps a hand around his wrist to hold him in place.

He lets go immediately, but not before Isak starts missing him all over again.

Even rubs his temples. “Isak, I was kidding. Believe it or not, one-night stands aren’t really my thing.”

“Oh,” Isak breathes, relief settling in his chest. He almost dares to ask it, why one-night stands had been Even’s thing that night, but the words die in his throat. Isak’s not sure he wants to know the answer, and staring at his hands seems like a better option. “I really didn’t mean to avoid you. I’m just really bad at this.”

 _Especially now that I know what being with you feels like,_ Isak thinks, but that’s not a road he should go down.

Even considers him for a moment, then seems to come to a decision. “It doesn’t have to be awkward, you know? Let’s start over.” He holds out a hand for Isak to shake. “I’m Even Bech Naesheim, and I’d like to be your friend, if you let me.”

Isak stares at Even’s hand with the dumbest look on his face. Even’s smile wanes the longer he holds out his hand, and Isak can tell that he’s on the verge of dropping it before Isak finally grasps it. He jerks it away after shaking it once, because touching Even for too long is definitely a bad idea. “You’re such a dork,” Isak finally says.

“A dork who’s your friend, though?”

Even’s grin is infectious, and Isak can’t help but offer a tentative smile back. This could be good, if Isak just gets over himself. They’re not hooking up again—fuck, Isak doesn’t _want_ to, because that would only make things weirder between them. The sooner he can accept that whatever they have is completely platonic, the better. Even doesn’t seem to be having any trouble forgetting about it, probably because he’s a mature adult, and Isak’s just a lost little boy with too many feelings.

“So, new friend, how’s Jonas’s search for a new Science & Tech writer going?” Even says, leaning against the counter.

Isak snorts. “You want to get rid of me already? That’s not very friendly.”

Even’s stare is still serious. “I know you took this on really suddenly, and you look tired.”

Isak decides to keep the truth to himself—that it's mostly the memories of Even, combined with his newfound proximity, keeping him up nowadays. It’s not even his fault, not really. Just Isak’s overburdened brain working itself to pieces when he needs it to rest. He thought he’d left the worse of his insomnia behind in high school, but it’s making a grand comeback now. “I’ve just been busy with assignments and stuff,” he mumbles. “It’s almost finals.”

Even chuckles. “Oh, yeah, I know all about that. I have so many projects due soon.”

“What about you? How are you keeping up with all of this? You’re a film student, right?”

Smooth, Isak. As if he doesn’t commit every detail that Even lets slip to memory. He may have Googled Even a couple of times in the past few weeks too, and his films are _good._ He’d found one that documented his friendship with Mikael, one from high school where Putin and Captain America banged, and one that was so artsy that Isak can’t even describe it. All he knows is that there were a lot of colors that hurt his head, but left him feeling whole just the same.

But Isak would probably think anything Even produced could cure cancer, so maybe he’s not the best judge.

“It’s definitely been busy lately,” Even concedes.

“Especially with the, uh, Sunflower Guy bullshit, right? Sorry, can’t remember—”

Even’s mouth unfurls into a smile. “Dandelion Boy?”

“Yeah. Him,” Isak says, trying to hide his bitterness. He doubts it’s working well, as he watches Even’s smile turns into a smirk. “Magnus is obsessed. Actually, he may just be obsessed with you.”

“I like him, he’s cool, but I do question his taste in obsessions,” Even laughs. Isak clamps his lips shut before he accidentally responds something embarrassing, like how Magnus’s obsession makes perfect sense, and honestly, he’s a little jealous of Magnus. Last time Even had dropped by to greet their entire group, Magnus had enveloped him into a hug that lasted far longer than necessary. It can’t be that easy, and it’s not, for Isak.

“How’s it going with Dandelion Boy, though?” Isak’s never been one for playground superstitions, but he thinks it’s an appropriate time to cross his fingers behind his back. Hopefully _very poorly,_ and maybe Even will be heartbroken, and Isak can swoop in and offer his shoulder for Even to cry on, as well as the use of other parts of his body.

That’s not entirely true, though. He just wants Even to be happy, at the end of the day. Even seems like the kind of person who gives so much happiness to the world that he deserves some back, even if it’s just a fraction of what he does for other people. Now that Isak knows about Juliet’s Nurse, he’s all too aware that’s not always been the case, that the world has been harsher to Even than Isak fully knows.

Screw it, Isak just wants to wrap this boy in a hug. He doesn’t often get that impulse for past hookups, but he gets the feeling Even isn’t entirely just _that_ either.

Even laughs. “How’s it going with Dandelion Boy? It’s not.” He shoots Isak a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“You mean you still haven’t talked to him?”

“Is that surprising?”

“I mean, you’re so smooth, and confident,” Isak waves a hand at him. “You’re— _you.”_

The corners of Even’s eyes begin to crinkle. “That’s nice of you.”

Isak crosses his arms over his chest. “Shut up,” he huffs. “That was barely even a compliment. You know you’re all that.”

“Do I?” Even smirks.

“Dude, your ego is big enough for you to give other people love advice.”

“I’m just doing a public service.” Even tilts his head. “Why? Has any of my love advice worked for you?”

“I spend most of my Friday nights at home watching shitty YouTube videos—what do you think?”

“You’re smooth, and confident, and you’re _you,_ too. I’m surprised.”

Even wouldn’t be, if he knew how deeply Isak’s insecurities ran. If he knew about his parents, and their toxic relationship. If he knew about what he’d felt for Jonas, once, and how he’d fucked up some of his best friendships because he was a selfish asshole. If he knew about the pure anxiety that used to put his brain on lockdown every time a boy wanted to hold his hand. If Even knew about all of that, he’d understand why love didn’t come so easily for Isak.

“I guess I just haven’t found the right person yet.” But that makes Isak too melancholy, so he elbows Even in the side to keep his reputation intact. “Seems like you have, though.”

“I really don’t know anything about him,” Even says carefully.

“But didn’t you say that we don’t really need to know everything about someone before we form a connection with them?”

Even’s eyes widen. “I knew you paid attention to my every word. You totally knew Dandelion Boy’s actual nickname, didn’t you?”

Isak buries his face in his hands. “Oh my god.”

“You pretend you don’t care about shit, but I can see right through you, Isak Valtersen.”

Isak shoves at his chest, but forces himself to pull his hands back before they linger too long. “Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

Even zips his lips shut. “Your secret is safe with me.” He tries to keep a straight face, but breaks into a grin a second later. “You have a heart!” he says, sounding all too smug.

“Everyone has a heart. It’s just biology,” Isak mumbles, but nothing can dim the glow in Even’s eyes. It’s easy to get caught in it, easy to lean closer until Even’s just a breath away. He’s never quite noticed how blue Even’s eyes are, has stopped himself from noticing them out of self-preservation. But they’re impossible to avoid now, and fuck, it should be a crime for someone to be this pretty.

Isak pulls back reluctantly, and fixes his gaze on his shoes instead. “But I think you should talk to him. Give it a chance. He may like you, for some reason.”

Of course he would. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t. Isak can accept that.

Even lets out a breath. “I guess I’m just nervous.”

Isak raises his head. “Why?” he says, baffled.

Even takes a moment to find the right words, but his answer is simple, “Because he matters.”

* * *

_Dear Juliet’s Nurse,_

_I’ve tried everything. I’ve been attempting to get one of my best friends to realize that I like her, but no matter what I do, she doesn’t seem to get it. Maybe it’s because we’ve been friends for so long. I don’t know. I tracked down a vintage copy of Pride and Prejudice for Valentine’s Day because she likes that book so damn much, and she still thought it was a friendly thing to do. I honestly think she forgot it was Valentine’s Day. Who does that? I’m getting really frustrated. Some of our friends think we’ve been dating for months, but she’s still oblivious._

_I don’t want to give up, because she’s worth the attention, but I can’t figure out what to do._

_Best,_

_Not obvious enough?_

* * *

_Dear Not obvious,_

_The thing is, Not obvious, I don’t think you’ve tried everything. Maybe you should try telling her how you feel, without pretenses. If you’ve been friends for so long, it’s easy for her to mistake nice things you do as typical things you’ve always done. There’s no reason for her to realize that you’ve changed your behavior. She may feel the same way, but is holding back because she doesn’t know what you want. Your best bet may be to be as desperate as you can. Hell, take desperate to a whole new level. You may think that you’re being obvious, but she may not see it that way. Mixed signals are hell to work through. Trust me, I should know._

_Peace,_

_Juliet’s Nurse_

* * *

It’s so late that Isak’s eyes are beginning to droop. He’s been running on energy drinks all day—first with an early-morning class, then labs until the evening. In between all of that, finding time to write his latest article had been a nightmare. Jonas needs his first draft by tomorrow though, or he’ll fix Isak with that disappointed expression he usually reserves for Taylor Swift apologists. Thank God Isak had been required to attend a lecture on particle physics on Monday. He’s trying to keep his physics notebook open with one elbow, type with one hand, and eat a burrito in the other, all with limited success, when someone taps on his shoulder.

Isak jumps about five feet and is ready to use the burrito as a weapon, when he realizes it’s just Even.

Isak exhales. “What the fuck, dude? You scared me half to death.”

Even muffles his laughter with a hand. “I can see that.”

Isak presses a hand to his chest, and keeps it there until his breathing slows. “What are you doing here? It’s one in the morning.”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I didn’t finish my article for the week,” Isak explains. He bangs on the keys to illustrate his point. One of these days, half of his keys are going to fly right off the keyboard, but that’s the price he’s going to have to pay for being dramatic, so it’s totally worth it. He rubs his forehead, letting out a loud sigh. “I just can’t find an angle.”

“What’s it on?”

“Physics research one of my professors is doing.” He groans, and tries to knead the tiredness from his temples. “Fucking revolutionary, but I have no idea how to explain it in a way that normal people can understand.”

Even raises an eyebrow. “People like me?”

“Yes, people like you, you uneducated piece of shit.”

“Nerd.”

“Dumbass.”

Even nods to Isak’s burrito. “That’s about to drip onto your shirt.”

“What—oh _fuck,”_ Isak says as a plop of beans and rice lands on his shirt. It’s the Jesus shirt, too, the one he borrowed from Eskild and never bothered to give back. Eskild still lights up when he sees Isak wearing it. It’s an artifact of their time together, from the only big brother figure in Isak’s life who’d loved him unconditionally. And now it’s fucking ruined.

Isak’s trying not to be a dramatic asshole about it, but he’s two seconds away from screaming. Even must notice, somehow, because he’s at Isak’s side in a heartbeat, dabbing at the stains with the napkins he somehow pulls out of his back pocket. Isak doesn’t do anything as stupid as swoon, but it’s a near thing. The press of Even’s hand to his chest has him lightheaded, and the sight of him, bent over Isak with the most doting expression, doesn’t make him any less ready to scream.

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” Even says, chuckling. “Maybe wake up early and finish in the morning?”

“I’d have to wake up at seven,” Isak says in disbelief. Even’s doesn’t react, and Isak throws his hands in the air. “Seven _in the morning._ Who wakes up at seven in the morning?”

“I do,” Even offers.

“I hate you so much.”

“That’s the best time to go on my morning runs. Afterwards, I stop for a bit of yoga, and bask in the early morning sunlight. It makes me feel at one with the world. Then, for breakfast, I have an acai bowl. Sometimes, I stop to meditate before my first class.”

Isak stares at him. Even stares back. Even forgets himself, and accidentally lets his lips twitch for one microsecond, and that’s when Isak cuffs him on the back of the head. Laughter bubbles up in his chest. “You fucking liar.”

“I’m not that much of a cliché,” Even says.

“No, just enough of one to be a loser.”

Even swipes the notes from Isak’s desk, and squints at them. They’re a jumbled mess that Isak himself is having trouble making sense of. He’d been half-asleep during the presentation, and it’s easy to tell when he’d nodded off, where his precise words trailed off in scribbles.

Even sets his notebook down, careful not to disturb the arrangement of notebook paper and pens that Isak’s laid down to work. Isak feels his heart swell in his chest, which is a little inconvenient. “You need a break.”

“No—”

“You’re not going to get anything done if you keep staring at this. You’re just working your brain to mush. Want to help me answer some letters instead?”

Isak stares at him in surprise. “You’d let me do that?”

“Sure. I let Jonas help a couple of times, though usually his advice is just ‘let it be’. Like I didn’t coach him with Noora for two straight months.”

“I have you to thank for that? Man, we can’t be friends anymore, then.”

Even wrinkles his nose. “They are a little a gross, yeah?”

“A lot,” Isak replies.

“A lot,” Even agrees with a laugh.

Isak ends up on the chair next to Even’s sifting through the box they leave outside their office for anonymous letters. Even’s scrolling through the email, rolling his eyes at the most ridiculous ones. When Isak had asked why they used both, Even explained that he wanted to make it as easy for people as possible. Some people prefer it old-fashioned, thought it was more romantic that way. Isak thinks it just makes more work for Even, but he gets it, sort of. Even may play it off as cultivating his persona, but Isak thinks he just wants to help as many people as he can, because that’s just who he is. The more he learns about Even, the harder it is to forget.

Isak doesn’t realize he’d been staring until Even swivels his chair around to face him. “You’re looking at me,” Even says, amused.

A flush spreads over Isak’s cheeks. “I’m not.”

“Okay,” Even says, but he way his eyes are filled with glee tells Isak that he hadn’t believed Isak at all. Why would he, when Isak is so fucking _obvious_ about it?

He decides to change the subject, because avoidance is the true Isak Valtersen way. “I can’t believe how many letters you get asking for threesomes.”

Even takes the stack of letters Isak’s holding up and chucks them in the trash. Isak can’t help the rush of relief. “They started coming ever since I let slip I was bi.”

“That’s fucked up,” Isak says, disgusted.

“Yeah,” Even says, and he sounds almost surprised.

But Isak’s already worked up. The flush on his cheeks is no longer fueled by purely embarrassment. He thought he’d left this anger behind in high school, along with the anxiety and the self-loathing that burned in his gut before he came out. But that would never go away, and he’s reminded of that every time he has to come out to strangers, every time someone makes a joke about girls that he’s expected to laugh at.

It’s not his place, but Isak can’t help clenching his hands into fists anyway, so hard that his fingernails bite into his palm. “I wish people wouldn’t just reduce you to your sexuality. That’s not the only thing that’s important about you.”

Isak’s just getting to know him, but every new piece of knowledge about Even feels like a privilege. The way he nuzzles his nose into his pillow when he’s sleeping, the way he makes his coffee, which ends up becoming half sugar, the way he bites his pens when he’s working hard, and Isak can’t tear his gaze away from Even’s mouth every time he passes his desk.

“You think there’s more to me?” Even says softly, and if Isak thought that it was a little too much, a little too intense for the short time they’ve known each other, he wouldn’t take it back.

A corner of Isak’s mouth quirks upward. “Don’t let it inflate your ego.”

“I won’t,” Even says, but Isak thinks he would say these words again and again, would say them and a thousand more, just to get Even to smile like this. “This isn’t just about me, is it?”

Isak pulls his knees to his chest, and wraps his arms around them. It had always been easier to let his thoughts slip and slide at night, when he’s tired enough to let his barriers fall down one by one. He thinks, though, the comfort that settles in his chest is less due to the time than the boy sitting at his side. “I think that kept me from coming out for the longest time, you know? The idea that someone would stop seeing me as Isak and just as that gay kid.”

“And did that happen?” Even says patiently.

Isak lowers his head, to pick at a fold in one of the letters. “Not really. Well, Magnus does ask me about gay sex a lot, but he’s just Magnus. I think I was more scared of my own head than anything. It seems so ridiculous now.”

“Just because it’s in your head doesn’t mean it’s not real.”

That makes Isak look up. “Did you really just quote Dumbledore at me?”

“I thought it was pretty fitting with all of this sexuality drama.”

“That’s it. We can’t be friends anymore.” Isak starts to get up, brushes his jeans for the full effect, but Even throws a pen at him. It barely brushes his stomach, but Isak grimaces as he falls to the ground. He presses a hand to his forehead, and breathes out a grand sigh. “Just when we’ve started becoming friends, you decide to hurt me like this?”

Even takes a second to respond, but soon, a soft smile spreads over his face. “I like you like this.”

It catches Isak off guard, makes his breath still. “What do you mean?” he says slowly.

“You’re so serious all the time. This is nice.” Even slides off the chair and sits next to Isak, cross-legged. With his bottom lip between his teeth, he strokes his thumb along Isak’s cheek. The touch is a spreading fire on Isak’s skin, burning him down all the way to his heart. He thinks Even may have full access to it already.

When Isak shivers, Even suddenly jerks his hand back.

Isak misses him so goddamn much, and he’s right there. He misses him so goddamn much, but he never had Even anyway, not really, so what is there to miss? It doesn’t make sense, but none of this does. Maybe Even had forgotten himself for a moment, but when Isak’s eyes flit to Even’s face, he looks just as he did before. Casual smile fixed on his lips, steady intent gone from his gaze. Maybe it had never been there at all.

“But really,” Even says slowly, “just because it went better than you expected doesn’t mean that your fear wasn’t justified. You had a right to feel whatever you felt. There’s just so much fucking pressure to come out now, you know? Like it’s 2017 and suddenly people think homophobia doesn’t exist.”

There is so much possibility in this boy, so much potential in whatever’s happening between them. It’s a shame that it’s not real.

“Thanks,” Isak says, before his throat gets too clogged up.

“I didn’t say anything you didn’t already know,” Even says.

“I guess. But it’s nice coming from someone who gets it.” _Someone who gets me,_ he wants to say instead, but that’s just asking for trouble.

Even grabs the box of letters, and their bubble bursts. “You asked for a break, and I don’t want you to think I lured you here under false pretenses. Ready to see the seedy underbelly of the love advice industry?”

Isak exhales. It’s nice to take the pressure off, but a part of him wishes he could go back to that moment. Isak spent so long building up walls around himself that he never expected he’d want someone to break them down.

Even plucks out a letter at random. His eyes fill with amusement as they skim over the words. “Got any good dildo recommendations?” he says.

Isak lets out a stunned laugh. “What?”

“Seriously, someone asked me for sex toy recommendations.”

“Do you get this a lot?”

“I usually don’t answer the NSFW ones, but there’s always this shit, people asking for good sex positions, the occasional dick pic…”

“Dick pics?” Isak says. He has no right to feel jealous all of a sudden, but here it is, Isak Valtersen’s pesky feelings making a comeback.

“My readers seem to think I’m extremely attractive, even though they’ve never seen me.”

They’re not _wrong,_ but that pisses Isak off even more. “Don’t these people have boundaries?”

“It’s annoying, but I’m a big boy. I can handle it.”

Isak can’t help but agree that _yes, Even’s a big boy,_ which leaves him blushing for the next ten minutes. Even must notice—because obviously this boy has an intuition for Isak’s most awkward moments—because he’s started to laugh. “Dirty,” he says, tutting.

“You once gave out blowjob tips!”

“I _knew_ you read that column,” Even says with glee, and then they’re both blushing.

Isak ends the night sprawled out on the floor of the office, laughing as Even reads the rest of the letters out loud. There’s the typical ones, like someone trying to navigate a long distance relationship, or dealing with a cheating boyfriend. Then it gets really strange, and by the third letter from someone who has an inkling their significant other is a furry, Isak is laughing so hard that his belly hurts.

“I had no idea your letters got this weird,” he breathes.

“Love is weird,” Even says.

And on the floor, staring at the ceiling while he lets Even’s deep voice wash over him, Isak has never agreed so fervently.

He doesn’t realize he’s been drifting off until Jonas gives his shoulder a hard shake the next morning, jolting him back awake. With a regretful glance at Even’s sleeping face, Isak gently extricates himself from the circle of Even’s arms. He doesn’t know who had made the first move in the night, or whether they’d tangled together in sleep, but the loss of Even’s warmth makes him feel lost. Even’s still snoring away, and Isak _wants_ so badly he’s sure Jonas can sense it pouring out of him. Maybe Isak’s always meant to leave. Maybe this is for the best.

“You two are pathetic,” Jonas says, rolling his eyes.

* * *

_Dear Juliet’s Nurse,_

_You’ve been ignoring me!! You haven’t given us any updates on Dandelion Boy for two weeks!! This is stressful!! Please put me out of my misery._

_Best,_

_Ceecee_

* * *

_Dear Ceecee,_

_You have nothing to be concerned about. I talked to him, actually! And he’s even better in person than he is from far away. He’s smart and kind, and he can make me laugh with the dumbest jokes. I idealized him for so long that I didn’t think he could be this perfect in person, but he is. He really is. Not perfect, exactly. He smells weird sometimes, and he never sleeps, and when he talks nerdy, I have no idea what’s going on (it’s pretty hot though, I won’t lie). But he’s perfect for me, even if he doesn’t know it yet. Hopefully, I’ll be able to keep reminding him of that for a very long time._

_For all of you who are going to be on my ass for rubbing it in your faces, you asked. This may be the last time I talk about him, so take it while you can._

_Peace,_

_Juliet’s Nurse_

* * *

They’re lying on the floor again, as they have been for the past week. Isak’s taken to bringing his late nights to the office. This is better than lying in his bed alone, and Even always seems to be here anyway, ready to entertain Isak when he has an assignment due that will take him until two, or can’t sleep and would rather watch animal videos on YouTube. It’s gotten to the point where Even leaves a blanket here now, in anticipation of the time when it’s just them in the silence of the night. They’d used it to make a blanket fort the night before, but now it’s casually thrown over them as they lie on their bellies.

Even’s answering a couple of letters on his laptop as Isak works on a Biology assignment, but he’s peeking over Even’s shoulder more often than not. This should feel dangerous, like tempting fate when Isak doesn’t know where they stand, but Isak’s never felt more content. Maybe that’s the dangerous part of it, Isak’s false sense of security when he’s all too aware of the reasons why wanting this and actually having it are two very different things.

“Any good stuff?” Isak asks.

“Well, there’s this girl questioning her sexuality,” Even says, turning his computer screen so Isak can see.

“That’s always fun.”

“Then there’s one guy who thinks his dick is too small to get girls.”

“Probably Magnus.”

“And someone who’s only starting to realize that Fifty Shades of Grey isn’t the best model of consensual BDSM, and wants tips.”

Isak wrinkles his nose. “Can’t they just Google?”

“You’d think so, but this is what keeps Juliet’s Nurse in business.”

Isak rolls over to his side, and pillows his head in his arms. One of Even’s curls his loose again, and it bounces on his forehead every time he moves his head even a tiny bit. Isak finds it positively endearing, and he should probably sue whatever brand of product Even uses, for allowing that one lock of hair to distract Isak.

Isak clears his throat, afraid to give his mind the freedom to wander. “I never thought to ask. Why ‘Juliet’s Nurse’, anyway? It’s not the exactly conventional.”

Even gasps dramatically. “You didn’t know and you’re only asking me _now?”_

Isak blushes. “I’ve read Romeo and Juliet, but that’s really it—”

“You mean you haven’t seen the best movie ever?”

Isak thinks that his definition of the best movie ever and Even’s are probably vastly different, so he shakes his head.

“Okay, we’re fixing this now,” Even says as he exits his email. He pulls up Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo + Juliet. “Get ready to cry.”

“I’m not gonna _cry,”_ Isak says automatically, and Even bursts into laughter.

“Let’s see if you still feel this way by the end.”

“Hit me with it,” Isak says. Even shrugs and presses play.

By the end, Isak’s eyes are so blurry that he can hardly see, but he refuses to wipe the tears away. Even has enough tact not to laugh, but Isak can see him hiding a smile behind his hand. He thought knowing exactly how it would end would make it easier to swallow, but it hadn’t, not at all. Reading the play in English class back at Nissen was nothing like this, and to be honest, Isak’s pretty sure he’d fallen asleep before the end. This is a whole new level of pain.

“I told—” Even starts.

“Don’t go there,” Isak sniffles.

“I’ve loved it since I was little,” Even explains. “And when I had to come up with an alias, I thought of this immediately.”

When the tears start dripping down his chin, Isak finally relents and presses his face into his shirtsleeve to furtively wipe them away. Even doesn’t say a word, but his smile grows wider. “Are you one of those pretentious assholes who only likes sad movies?” Isak hiccups.

“Tragedy makes romance epic,” Even says.

Isak considers him. “You run a love advice column. You don’t really believe that.”

Even’s stare has Isak burning up inside, and he shifts awkwardly in an attempt to maintain his gaze. “Maybe I’m beginning not to,” he says finally, and his face melts into something unbearably fragile, something Isak longs to cradle to his chest and never let go.

Even doesn’t mean it like that _._ He can’t. He likes someone else, and Isak had _left,_ anyway, and he’s ruined whatever chance they had. He’s never regretted something more, but now all that’s left of them is a memory. Maybe if Isak had gotten over his fucking insecurities, Even wouldn’t have a crush on some dumb boy he’s never met, and realize that he likes someone who’s right here in front of him.

Sometimes, Isak thinks the worst place to be is his own head.

Even looks at Isak, props himself up with a hand. The softness is still there, and it makes Isak only want to cry harder, knowing he’ll never have this. “You know what always makes me feel better after watching a sad movie?”

“Crying into a pillow and promising yourself you’ll never watch anything this sad again?”

“Cheese toasties,” Even says, very seriously.

“Cheese toasties?” Isak’s voice is laced with skepticism.

“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

That’s how Isak ends up in the kitchen as Even starts sprinkling every spice he can grab onto two slices of toast. Isak doesn’t even know how they got in there—people hardly use the kitchen, except Even. They barely have anything in their fridge, but apparently, there’s an entire grocery store’s worth of spices hidden in these shelves. Go figure.

“Rosemary?” Even asks.

Isak holds back his laughter as he says, “Go for it.”

“Cardamom?”

“Can’t make toast with cardamom.”

As Even finishes sprinkling the last touches of chili on the bread, he says, “Watch out, Isak Valtersen. These will be the best cheese toasties you’ve ever tasted.”

They’re not. They’re really, really not. Isak chugs down almost an entire pitcher of water before his mouth feels normal again. Even has rejected containers entirely and is just using the faucet to wash out his mouth. “I can’t believe you ate that entire thing,” Isak tells Even. “That was disgusting.”

“I thought it was amazing,” Even says, but he can’t even take himself seriously as his face breaks into a grimace.

“That’s what makes you feel better after watching a sad movie?”

“It made you laugh, didn’t it?”

That’s probably more because of Even than the toast, but he’s keeping that secret close to his heart.

Even chuckles as his eyes pass over the counter, which is covered in spices. “We’ve made such a mess in here. And we’ve used up all the paper towels…”

“Jonas can deal with it in the morning.”

“That’s highly irresponsible of you, Valtersen.”

“That’s me, always living life on the edge.”

There’s something else Isak needs to say, even if it doesn’t matter, even if Even doesn’t care, not in the way Isak wants him to. “Thanks, for all of this,” he says softly. He gestures around the kitchen, but there’s nothing precise about it. It’s too hard to place a name to this feeling bubbling inside of him. It’s harder knowing that he shouldn’t even try, in case he makes it too real.

Even seems to get it though. Isak can’t tell whether that hurts more. “You don’t have to thank me for anything.”

“This past week…” But Isak’s sentence stops there, words sticky in his throat.

“I think that’s more because of you than anything else.”

Isak turns his head to the side, clenches his jaw.

“Why do you do that?” he says. Every word is a stab to his own heart.

“Do what?” Even asks.

“Make it seem like…” Isak shakes his head. This is all on him, and he can’t blame Even for the desire threatening to split Isak wide open. Even didn’t ask for this, for him, for a boy so desperate to be wanted he’ll latch on to someone so ridiculously unavailable.  

“Isak, have you read my column today?” Even says slowly.

Isak flinches at the abrupt change. “What?”

Even grows more excited by the minute, and his next words come out as a jumble. “Fuck, you must have missed it, but open your phone. Read it now. It’s good news, I promise.”

Isak nearly drops his phone in his rush to pull up the website, but when he’s done reading, he sags against the counter. “Oh,” he says.

“Oh?” Even says, raising an eyebrow. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“I’m glad you finally talked to him. I’m happy for you two,” Isak says carefully, because any more than that would make the tears start spilling over. He tries not to think about it, but it’s difficult, when the image of Even in someone else’s arms is a reality now.

“How can you be this fucking oblivious?” Even finally says, throwing his hands in the air.

“Wha—”

“I’m talking about you, Isak.” Even punctuates his by jabbing a finger into Isak’s chest. “You’re Dandelion Boy.”

His brain is finally starting to function again, but it’s slow going. He vaguely remembers, now, a time when Eva had tucked a flower behind his ear for good luck for an exam. He had brushed it away immediately, before anyone could see. Apparently, not quickly enough, not for someone who had been looking. Nervous laughter bubbles up inside Isak. _Even_ had been looking, he’d been looking all along, from the very beginning.

“You mean...you liked me? You _like_ me?” he says, slightly hysterical.

Even nods to confirm. Isak can tell he’s trying hard to stay calm, but a grin breaks over his face, unabashed and unfiltered. Isak wants more smiles like this, more chances to make Even this absurdly happy. The knowledge that Isak made him feel this way has Isak weak at the knees. It almost seems too good to be real.

It _is_ real, though, and it feels all the more so when Even wraps an arm around his waist, so he can tug Isak closer. His heart is beating so wildly that he’s sure Even can feel it where they’re pressed together. It makes him feel nervous, scared, but when Even places a steadying hand on his hip, some of the anxiety fades.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Isak whispers.

“You left, that morning. I thought there was something wrong with me, or something wrong with us—”

Isak presses a soft kiss to Even’s cheek. “There’s nothing wrong with you. There can’t possibly be,” Isak breathes against his skin.

“Then why?”

“Because no one’s ever wanted me to stay before.” Isak can’t keep himself from trembling, but it doesn’t matter, because that’s when Even crashes their lips together. Even’s hand tangles into Isak’s hair, messing up the curls even more. His lips are soft, so fucking soft, and Isak may have thought he’d missed them before, but he hasn’t realized the full extent until now. Even lets out a groan when Isak draws him closer, and yes _,_ he’s going to keep this boy for a while. It’s all the things he thought he couldn’t have. It’s all the things he _does_ have.

Even finally pulls away, and Isak’s lips instinctively chase after him. He lets out whimper when Even remains a tantalizing inch away. He doesn’t leave Isak without his touch for long though, starts drawing circles with his thumbs under Isak’s shirt. “There is nothing I want more than for you to stay,” Even says.

Isak chuckles and presses his forehead against Even’s. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me now.”

* * *

_Dear Juliet’s Nurse,_

_I know you answer a lot of letters from people who are trying to find love, but I have the opposite problem. I’ve just started dating someone who may possibly be the love of my life, but I don’t know what happens next. I’m so scared of screwing it up, but I’m so impossibly happy. Everything feels like it could be possible, but that makes it harder. I just don’t know what the right move is. What happens now?_

_Best,_

_Happy But Confused_

* * *

_Dear Happy,_

_This is when you start living._

_Peace,_

_Dandelion Boy_

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr at [bechnaesun](http://bechnaesun.tumblr.com/)!


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